


For a While, So You’re Not Alone

by hi_irashay



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Friendship AND MORE, Gratuitous description of fall landscapes, M/M, You're Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2794928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_irashay/pseuds/hi_irashay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was not the first time Ned had awoken to see Robert standing by his bedside.  Robert exuded a magnetism that Ned found oddly irresistible, pulling him almost blindly into anything and everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a While, So You’re Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlameBlownWhiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameBlownWhiter/gifts).



> A very merry LEAVES present for my darling @FlameBlownWhiter! Title + slight amounts of content inspiration from here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OyytKqYjkE

Ned awoke with a start. The Autumn winds were whistling outside, blowing dead leaves in erratic patterns past his bedchamber window. The fire had burned down considerably, emitting a soft glow and just enough heat to make the world outside his fur blankets barely tolerable. But it wasn’t the wind, nor the leaves, nor the dying fire that had roused Ned. It was Robert Baratheon, looming out of the dark.

This was not the first time Ned had awoken to see Robert standing by his bedside - midnight explorations, hunts, and sword practices were part and parcel of their life together as wards. No matter how tired or sore Ned was from the day’s work and practice, he always found himself rolling out of bed to join in. Robert exuded a magnetism that Ned found oddly irresistible, pulling him almost blindly into anything and everything.

“Come on, Stark, let’s go!” Robert whispered, his voice somehow still sonorous and expansive in hushed tones.

“Hrnng,” Ned grunted, throwing off his blankets and rising to his feet. Being backlit by firelight caused Robert’s already imposing silhouette to seem magnified, as if there were an army of Roberts instead of just the one. Robert was tall for 15, and would likely grow further into manhood as time wore on. He had the booming laugh of a man twice his years, and a presence that filled a room of any size. Though they were of similar age, Ned couldn’t shake the feeling that he was Robert’s little brother. Robert was bold energy, and Ned was powerless against it.

“‘Attaboy, Ned!” Robert clapped Ned on the shoulder, almost sending Ned tumbling back onto the bed with the force of it, before turning to steal quietly out of Ned’s bedchamber. He paused at the door, looking furtively down the hallway in each direction, and beckoned quietly for Ned to follow.

Their midnight romps throughout the Eyrie had started soon after they arrived as boys, many years past. After a few weeks of wary avoidance, Ned happened upon Robert tying one of the serving wench’s skirts to the bottom of her chair as she worked at her mending. Upon slithering back to an upright position, Robert appeared startled to see Ned hovering at the doorway, watching. Ned’s shy smile received an impish one in return, and that night Ned awoke to Robert hesitantly shaking his shoulder for the first time.

From that point on, the nights were theirs for the taking. They explored every nook and cranny of the Eyrie, discovering secret passageways they imagined even Jon Arryn had never seen. They practiced at their swordfighting, often leaving each other worse for the wear and having to explain their myriad cuts and bruises to Jon the morning after.

Words and stories flowed freely between them as they built their friendship under the light of the ever-present moon. Ned learned of Robert’s upbringing down in the south, about his younger brothers, about watching his parents die at sea. Ned spoke of Winterfell and his siblings, grateful for the understanding in Robert’s eyes whenever the words caught in his throat.

They had been as close as brothers for so long now - united under Jon and the Vale, while still carrying separate worlds within their hearts. For Ned, it was the North; for Robert, it was Storm’s End. They were two souls bound together as one, impossibly content and yearning at the same time.

The creak of a doorway snapped Ned out of his reverie, and he noticed that Robert had led them down to the Sky Cells. Robert had acquired a torch along the way, its flickering flame giving his eyes an odd glint that Ned did not recognize. This was not a Robert he had seen before, leaving Ned feeling at once curious and perturbed.

Robert paused outside one of the Sky Cell doors before hoisting the torch into a sconce and pushing the door open. A gust of wind rushed through the door, slamming against both boys and almost extinguishing the flame. Robert pushed through into the Cell with an air of indifference, striding to the edge of the stone floor. He sat down and swung his legs over the ledge before looking expectantly back at Ned.

Ned hastened to join Robert at the edge, taking slightly more care in approaching the edge. They had both heard the tales of prisoners driven to madness in the Sky Cells and throwing themselves off these very ledges, yet Robert had approached it so confidently. _Perhaps I’m the only one of us with any manner of self-preservation_ , Ned thought wryly to himself, before turning his focus to the view in front of him.

The vista from the Sky Cell was absolutely breathtaking, perhaps even more so in its stark contrast to the cell’s ominous purpose. It seemed to Ned as if the whole of the Vale were laid out solely for their pleasure - the moonlit terrain, the contrast of the fertile valleys and resplendent Mountains of the Moon, the twinkling stars above it all.

“You sometimes forget how vast this place is,” Ned commented, momentarily struck by the landscape before them. “So much more than rock and stone. It’s almost beautiful from up here.”

Robert let out a low whistle, fidgeting slightly as he sat. “I suppose ‘beautiful’ is one way to think of it.”

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, watching the clouds pass over the moon and the subsequent shadowplay across the realm. Ned was viscerally aware of how close Robert was to him, and could feel tension building in the other boy. It was only a matter of time before Robert would cave and tell him what was on his mind, Ned knew. Getting to the heart of things with Robert was a waiting game, and Ned had become very patient.

Finally, Robert broke the silence. “Do you ever think of home, Stark?” he queried, shifting slightly closer to Ned. “Of that damned North of yours, of Winterfell and your people?”

“You know I do,” Ned replied, remembering their past commiseration. “Especially with Winter drawing all the more near.” He paused, wondering what Robert might be looking for in his answer. “I think of my father often, I wonder what he might be doing now. I wonder after my brothers and sister, especially the younger ones.”

That elicited a small smile from Robert - he had met Lyanna and Benjen, and had seemed quite taken with them. Lyanna especially.

“Family’s all well and good, Stark, but I mean home. The land, the air, those trees you talk of praying to.” Robert’s voice was gruff, his gaze faraway. “The place inside that no one, nothing can ever take away from you.”

Ned nodded, adding, “Not wrecks nor wars, not love nor hate.”

“Yes, not anything.” Robert paused. “But this place is not home. Jon Arryn, he is part of home. You, Ned…” Robert paused, glancing sidelong at Ned. “You’re home. But the Eyrie? No. A man needs a home.”

“And they call me the dour one.” Ned’s tone was jesting, attempting to lighten Robert’s mood. “Come now, it isn’t so bad here.”

“It’s different for you, you’re from the North, this place is more familiar to you. It’s in your blood.” Robert gave Ned a long look. “Or at least, more so than it is in mine.” Ned felt as if he were shrinking under Robert’s gaze.

“That could be,” replied Ned, when he could bear the silence no longer. “But Robert, you’ve been in the Vale for many years now. Surely you have accustomed at least a little to life... not in the southron lands?”

Robert finally broke his gaze, sighing deeply as it shifted back over the moonlit Vale. “This will be my first Winter up here, Ned,” Robert said, so quietly Ned almost missed the words under the whistling winds. “I feel in my bones that this land rejects my presence. It has been…” Robert paused, the moonlight reflecting off of the lines of consternation deepening in his brow. “It has not been the easiest of Autumns, to say the least.”

Robert looked at Ned expectantly, but Ned felt at a loss for words. This was more Lyanna’s territory, this… comforting, this reassuring. These were womanly arts of which Ned knew little. Were Robert worried about a tournament or a hunt, Ned would know exactly what to say. Instilling courage, sparking fire, those came easily to him. But matters of the head and heart were entirely different things. Especially when there were no weapons involved.

A cloud blew over the moon, casting shadows over their chosen Cell. The change in the light made Robert’s expression seem more wounded than anything else. _Wounded…_ Ned suddenly remembered a childhood walk in the woods, when Benjen had stumbled over a rock and scraped his arm. Benjen had not cried, Ned recalled, but he’d had a similar wounded expression to the one Robert wore now. Little Lyanna had put her arm around Benjen as they’d continued on their walk, squeezing gently, and in Ned’s memory he could see Benjen’s expression lifting at the contact. _Maybe, just maybe…_

Slowly, softly, Ned brought his right arm up around Robert’s shoulders. They were wide, Robert as burly as he was tall, but Ned’s right hand reached Robert’s right shoulder with relative ease. Robert had stiffened slightly underneath Ned’s arm, whether from the contact or from the cold Ned knew not. Ned squeezed Robert’s shoulder gently, as Lyanna had done to Benjen, hoping it would have the same effect as all those years ago.

Time passed, and still the boys sat. Robert relaxed, leaning ever so slightly into Ned’s touch. His head listed over and rested against Ned’s own, the heat from their proximity warming Ned in a way he hadn’t realized he’d craved. Robert’s left hand moved to rest gently against Ned’s thigh, five fingers of subtle warmth against tense muscle.

After a few more moments Ned began to feel nervous, removing his arm and making to push away from Robert’s side. Robert’s head jerked up - “No. What do you think you are doing Stark?” His voice was gruff again, a different shade of gruffness that spoke to a different type of need. “Don’t stop,” he commanded, his eyes bright and wild.

Ned hurriedly returned his arm to Robert’s shoulders, and heard the other boy sigh deeply. Suddenly there was a hand on Ned’s jaw pulling his face to the right, and for a moment all he could see was blue.

“Stay with me,” Robert whispered. “Kiss me.” His eyes were all Ned could see, boring into him with a signature intensity.

“What?” Ned returned, disbelieving and uncertain. _So blue. So much blue._

Robert didn’t answer, instead leaning forward and brushing his lips against Ned’s. Softly, with a gentle urgency, he reached his other hand up to cradle Ned’s face as he pressed their foreheads together.

“Ned...” They breathed together as one, before Robert leaned forward. His lips were more insistent this time, pressing against Ned’s and demanding to be known. Ned’s body responded on instinct, his lips moving to meet Robert’s, the hand on Robert’s shoulder tightening its grip.

Robert broke away, sending Ned tumbling again into the blue. “Touch me,” Robert ordered.

Ned felt a slight buzzing fill his head as a calloused hand moved from his face to grab his left hand, bringing it up to Robert’s right cheek. Ned stared at their joined hands, Robert’s fingers weaving between his as they pressed his hand into Robert’s smooth cheek.

“Touch me.” The order floated again through the buzzing in Ned’s head as Robert untangled his hand to bring it rest on Ned’s shoulder.

Ned tentatively stroked his fingers over the planes of Robert’s face, tracing its features and bringing his right hand to tangle in Robert’s hair. Ned hesitated briefly, uncertainty unfurling through his hazy mind in creeping tendrils, before mentally brushing them aside and timidly moving in to kiss Robert.

Robert growled at the contact and surged into the kiss, pulling Ned against him with a force that sent them both toppling backwards. The kiss deepened, Ned on top of Robert as they balanced precariously on the edge. The edge of the cell, the edge of sanity, the edge of the world. In a smooth motion Robert flipped them, rolling them a safer distance away from the edge as he moved on top of Ned.

Ned felt a soft wetness in the kiss - Robert’s tongue, darting out to trace his lips. Ned parted them with a surprising assuredness, bringing his own tongue to meet Robert’s in an elaborate dance. Robert’s hand held Ned’s head in a vice-like grip, his body heavy as it pressed down onto Ned’s.

Ned saw through the urgency of Robert’s action’s to the deeper need underneath. He disentangled his right hand from Robert’s hair and brought it down to Robert’s back, making what he hoped were soothing circles across the knotted muscles.

Robert momentarily broke their kiss. “Yes, Ned, just like that.” He brushed a lock of Ned’s sweat-damp hair off Ned’s forehead. “Keep going.” Robert brought his lips back down to Ned’s, his body responding readily to Ned’s administrations on his back. Robert pressed their bodies more tightly together and began to roll his hips against Ned’s. Ned’s body needed no direction or thought, reacting in kind with an upward thrust. Robert groaned into Ned’s mouth, the sound strangled by the sweep of their tongues.

They continued, a tangled mass of hips and shoulders and tongues, rolling smoothly against each other as if they were born to do so. Ned’s actions became more assured, to which Robert’s reciprocated with increasing passion. The heat and friction between them grew, making the Sky Cell seem as warm as either of their bedchambers. Ned felt a stirring in the pit of his belly and a flash of arousal in his manhood. A growing hardness against his thigh told him Robert was experiencing the same.

A sudden crash in the hall outside the cell caused Robert to jerk upright, leaving an unexpected chill in his wake. The odd glint in his eyes was back, and before Ned could protest Robert was pulling away. _Too far away,_ Ned thought hazily, clumsily groping for Robert and trying to pull him back. Robert stole over to the door and looked out into the hall as Ned sat up to watch.

“It was just a stand of swords,” Robert called softly back to Ned. “The wind must have sent it over.” Robert remained by the door, steadfastly looking anywhere but Ned’s eyes.

“Robert, please-” Ned began.

“I think I’m ready to sleep now,” Robert interrupted, his eyes resolutely cast downward at the cell floor. “Good night.”

Robert was halfway into the hall before he paused. “Stark, Ned… thank you.” Robert whispered, in tones so quiet Ned almost lost the words to the vast open outside the Cell. “For tonight, for always.” With a final fleeting look back at Ned, Robert exited, taking care to ensure the door remained open behind him.

It took several moments for Ned’s thoughts to catch up with him as he stared after Robert in wonder. Ned turned back towards the moonlit Vale, the wind picking up and nipping at his cloak as he drew it more tightly around himself. He sighed softly as he surveyed the jagged, snowcapped peaks of the Mountains of the Moon and their shadowy valleys - _Winter is coming, indeed._ The night had grown deep and the windblown leaves more plentiful, each a tiny point dancing across the silver-studded sky.

Ned’s mind was swirling in patterns as erratic as the dance of earth and sky before him. _What have we done?_ Ned had been surprised by Robert’s actions, and when the initial shock wore off he was surprised further by how easy it was to give in. _It was not good, it cannot have been,_ Ned thought. _Yet nothing has ever felt more right._

The night had brought Ned to unchartered territory, without question. But, all previous unchartered territory was always explored with Robert. They had gone together side by side into the dark, the unknown, the vast. Was this not simply another new exploration? Or are there some roads a man must explore alone? _Never without Robert,_ Ned’s mind whispered back at him. He shuddered at the thought.

Ned was overcome by the sudden sensation that the Old Gods were watching him, were communicating with him. All these years praying without response had led to this night. There was no Godswood in the Eyrie, nor a heart tree nearby, but still they were there. Arguably more powerful than they had ever been before.

Or maybe, it was just Robert. Robert the man, Robert the force of nature. Robert, the one thing in which Ned was sure he would always believe. _Robert._


End file.
